The anger flared hot and sharp.
Dana had everything. She grew up rich. She’d been popular. Her friends defended her, thought she could do no wrong. Having a lot of girlfriends and being popular was something Mia didn’t have because she was too busy working and studying. Dana had a business that thrived because her name opened doors. Mia had broken hers down with blood and sweat.
Why wasn’t that enough for Dana? Why did she feel she had to take Mia’s too?
A violent shudder wracked her body, teeth chattering so hard her jaw ached. She wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to make herself smaller. Warmer.
She shut her eyes and forced her thoughts somewhere safe. She thought about hot cocoa, thick and sweet. The weight of the mug warming her palms. Chocolate and sugar and comfort.
Her stomach cramped instead.
The cold didn’t ease.
And the dark pressed closer.
Damn Roy.
Of course, he’d ruined everything.
She had planned to kill him, eventually. He was a liability. Too emotional, too needy—God, was he needy. Always wanted reassurance. So she’d given him just enough of her attention, her promises, a few soft words, and he lapped it up.
It should have been so simple. Get Mia in the locker. Lock the door. Walk away, and life goes on.
But no, he had to play hero.
And Mia had forced her hand.
Dana hadn’t wanted it to go this far. She’d tried to be patient, to be generous. But Mia kept pushing. Kept taking contracts, attention, sympathy. Acting like she earned it.
Dana had worked hard too. People liked to forget that part.
The locker had been a mercy, really. Quick. She’d even considered checking back later, just to make sure Mia hadn’t suffered more than necessary. That had to count for something.
Then Roy forced her hand.
She exhaled slowly as she drove. Panic wouldn’t help. Emotion wouldn’t either. This part required clarity.
Caleb’s call confirmed what she already suspected. They were watching. Not closely yet but enough to be dangerous. One wrong step and their suspicion would turn solid.
So, she’d moved on to the contingency plan.
The cabin was still exactly where it should have been, tucked into the trees on land her father had bought decades ago. Twenty minutes from Haywood Lake, down a road no one used unless they meant to. No neighbors. No cell service. No reason for anyone to stumble across it unless they already knew it existed.
She’d packed carefully. Cash. Clothes she could leave behind. Her phone powered down, and the battery was removed. Something tugged at her attention. Not panic. Not fear. Just a faint sense of irritation, like forgetting to turn off the light in a room she’d already left.
Dana dismissed it. She didn’t make mistakes. She told herself she never did.
By the time they found Mia’s body, it would be finished.
There would be no witnesses. No evidence. No story that couldn’t be explained away with grief and shock and a trembling voice. Nothing to prove she killed either of them.
Dana would mourn. Be the first to show up with casseroles and kind words. She’d cry at the right moments.
And when the dust settled, when Mia’s clients were left scrambling, Dana would be there.
She deserved that business. She always had.
If Mia hadn’t insisted on standing in her way, none of this would’ve been necessary.
